Even Cold Can Burn
by DangerDanger
Summary: Even a soul as cold as Lor's could still burn for another.  Lor/MacKayla oneshot


Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone in the Fever series.

Warning: Gratuitous swearing and sexual references.

_AN: This is a short oneshot inspired by the scene between Lor and MacKayla, where Mac was forced to strip to enter the section of Chesters where her parents were being held. Directly after which, she received a 'romantic' proposition from Lor. His offer was so hilariously 'cavemanish', I laughed reading it in Shadowfever, but it also got me interested in Lor. I wondered what was going on in his mind at the time that would have prompted such an offer. He didn't seem like the type to, well, even_ ask_ in the first place. Though I'm a crazed Mac/Barrons shipper, I can't help but enjoy a little fantasy about what Lor could have been thinking, as well as what he probably wanted to do (in my AR fantasies!) if he was tempted enough to make such an offer in the first place. Uh-hum, here's my try at that – enjoy!_

Lor watched her strip and he wanted her. There. Then. He almost did it. The bitch didn't know how close she'd come to being shoved to the floor and pinned beneath him.

Lor wasn't a particularly patient creature, but he, and the rest of his eight brethren, tended toward the cold and calculating rather than the impulsive. The centuries wore down even the hottest of firebrands. Part of him wondered at his intense response to the site of her naked. He'd only been half-amused by her cocky attitude in the past, he'd seem many spirited, alpha-females come and go over the centuries and it got old. Everything got old, eventually. But it was as if something clicked in him when she swayed, bare-assed, up the stairs in front of him with the spear slung over her shoulder. A tempting sight. As if she was doing it as a personal challenge to Lor. And he damn well liked that thought.

He growled and his cock stiffened. He imagined tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her off. She would be his bitch then. He would take her over and over again and he could tell by the way she looked, moved, and how she affected him, he would never tire of having her.

There was Barrons.

He would kill Barrons. It would be easy. Barrons wouldn't expect the bullet Lor would put through the back of his skull. The Nine had a code, of sorts. Not that any of the Nine fully trusted one another, but there were rules. Putting a bullet in the brain of one of his 'brothers', unprovoked and over a woman, was sure to bring down punishment on his head from the others. Conceivably, one of his own could face endless punishment, depending on the severity of his crime. They each knew the other's only real weakness, because it was also their own. Die, die again, and keep dying; he could have his throat slit over and over for as long as the others were willing to stand in that godforsaken desert and wait for him to resurrect.

_That_ was never a shitstorm Lor had ever been willing to bring down upon his own head.

Never, till now.

The bitch was worth it.

Or rather, having her was worth it. He hadn't really wanted anything, anyone, like this in…since when. Millennia, probably. It wasn't love, nothing warm and fuzzy, nothing like that. He simply wanted to fuck. To fuck her in particular.

He wanted to turn her around, spread those long legs and stick his cock in deep. Pound her from behind until she had to strain to keep the tips her toes planted on the floor as he ground against her hips. And so many other things. Shit, the way she moved made him salivate. She was all feline predator. Screw Barrons. The possessive prick wanted to keep her all to himself. Hell, maybe Barrons was part of the reason he was gagging for her. To spite that egomaniacal, prancing bastard. As for the other part of why, he was getting an eyeful of that right now parading naked in front of him.

No. Putting Barrons in his place might add to the excitement, but it was definitely because of her. He wanted her, willing or not. But once she got a taste of what Lor could give her, she'd be willing. He would fuck her for hours, for days. He imagined grabbing her by the hair and dragging her into the next room, kicking and fighting. He didn't mind a few scratches, just as long he could pound her senseless until Barrons resurfaced again. Hell, maybe he could kill the bastard one more time and have another round with his bitch. The thought of slicing into Barrons while Lor was in the body of the beast and then turning right around and fucking her again brought a small, strangled cry from Lor's throat.

What the fuck. Lor growled in frustration. He'd thought he couldn't get any harder. He watched her ass jiggle a little as she reached the top of the stairs. Ryodan stepped up and practically threw the short robe over her, almost as if he knew what must be going through Lor's mind. Maybe Ryodan was having similar thoughts. Lor gave a mental snarled at that image. He didn't want to share. Again, he stifled the impulse to throw her down right here and now and have a taste, right on the floor. And he would have, if Ryodan didn't give him that cold-ass look that said, "I know what you want and you can't have it, asshole" and clicked the safety catch off his gun.

Lor growled and watched MacKayla's ass some more and ground his teeth in frustration.

He was going to walk around with a hard on all day now. Fuck.

_AN: Hope you liked. Any other Fever characters any of you readers recommend exploring? Also, holy crapoly, I couldn't decide if Lor should refer to Barrons as 'Barrons' or 'Jericho'. Suggestions?_


End file.
